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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345758">Nothing Lasts Forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/arson_tille/pseuds/arson_tille'>arson_tille</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M/M, Merry Christmas, Minor Character Death, Modern AU, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, There's so many characters, adding tags as I go, also polyamory is just what die hard needed, die hard au, i put too much effort into this, i'll probably add more as we go - Freeform, jangobi got divorced oh no, joint custody of boba, no one is cis white and straight, relationship troubles galore, the oppress brothers are here, you gotta pick one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:14:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345758</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/arson_tille/pseuds/arson_tille</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Also known as a Poly Jolly Christmas, also known as Die Hard: Clone Wars edition.<br/>This is just what it says on the tin: Die Hard but with SW characters. Jango's John McClane, Obi-Wan's Holly Genero, everyone else shall be revealed later.<br/>Maul and a jolly bunch of bounty hunters try to pull off a heist against the JEDI Corporation, Jango says I think the fuck not, chaos, saying fuck a lot, and canon-typical violence ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jango Fett and Boba Fett, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Quinlan Vos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So back in November, I was on a plane and I watched Die Hard and my Star Wars-addled brain said "hey bruce willis is just temuera morrison but white" and this monstrosity was born. originally it was gonna be a oneshot of crack, but then plot and emotions came out of nowhere. long story short, i don't know how long this will be, i have nothing to say for myself, and i was going to post this on xmas but then didn't.<br/>happy holidays, ya filthy animals<br/>see you on the bottom, thanks so much for reading what will surely become my magnum opus :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Of course they sent an Uber Black to pick him up.</p>
<p>Jango rolled his eyes so hard he could feel his head starting to hurt. Such a subtle way of throwing in his face the fact that Obi made more money than Jango ever would. He hated the goddamn JEDI organization. Most importantly, he hated that his husband was part of it.</p>
<p>Ex. His ex-husband.</p>
<p>God fucking damnit.</p>
<p>“Boba, get in the back.”</p>
<p>His son turned to give him an incredulous look. “Dad, it’s a Lincoln Town Car. Most of it is ‘the back’.”</p>
<p>“Just...pick a spot and park your butt, okay?” He ruffled Boba’s hair, received an annoyed hiss in return, and let the driver open the back door for Boba. Meanwhile, he sat down in the front seat and tried to roll out his shoulders. He always got stiff after long flights and the stress of the situation wasn’t helping any.</p>
<p>The driver looked from the backseat to the front seat once, twice, his braids swinging and thumping his chest with the movement. “Maybe Mr. Fett does not understand how a Black service works,” he said, too loud to be to himself, “but I’m quite sure that you’re supposed to get in the back.” Then he laughed, a great bark of a belly laugh. “But what do I know? It’s my first day driving for Uber!”</p>
<p>Jango almost laughed too. Fucking perfect. “My first time riding in one. Besides, I’d rather sit here.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, and leave me all alone,” Boba yelled from behind him. “Because we’re arguing and he hates to admit that I’m right so he’s exiling me to the back of this freaking car!”</p>
<p>“Language,” Jango said. “Put your seatbelt on.”</p>
<p>“I said ‘freaking’!”</p>
<p>The driver laughed again as he pulled out of the airport parking lot. Definitely at least a bit drunk. “So what’s the argument? Perhaps Hondo Ohnaka can help a father and son settle things before their destination, eh? That’s me by the way: Hondo Ohnaka!”</p>
<p>“Nice to meet you,” Jango lied. “And it’s—”</p>
<p>“I think it was a terrible idea to come here,” Boba piped up, “and he’s being stupid and won’t admit it.”</p>
<p>“Oh ho!” The driver smacked his hand to his chest as if this was the funniest joke in the world. “And what’s so terrible about coming to this City of Angels, eh? We’re already out of  LAX, you have nothing to complain about!”</p>
<p>“Because we’re here to see his ex.”</p>
<p>Jango was an adult and did not thump his head on the lid of the passenger airbag.  “Boba, I’m sure the nice man doesn’t need to hear about my relationship problems.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, the nice man really doesn’t mind, not at all!” the man in question replied, very unhelpfully. “So your ex, huh?”</p>
<p>Ah, so they were having this conversation. “Yep.”</p>
<p>“Ach, ach. Boyfriend? Fiance? Husband?”</p>
<p>Jango turned to give Ohnaka a look. “What makes you think it’s a him?”</p>
<p>Ohnaka made a wavey gesture that Jango assumed meant, <em>dude, you’re fucking gay and it’s pretty fucking obvious</em>. Which...okay, fair enough.</p>
<p>“Husband.”</p>
<p>Hondo let out a noise like a balloon sprung a leak. “Ouch! And you’ve come back to what, win him back? How long since you split? Or did he split?”</p>
<p>“He split. A few months ago.” He sighed. “It’s a complicated situation.”</p>
<p>“It’s a bullshit situation!” Boba yelled.</p>
<p>“Okay, that one was a swear word for sure.”</p>
<p>“Whatever, I didn’t get dragged across the <em>country</em> to watch you guys yell at each other again! Like you did for <em>months</em> before he moved out! It was entertaining at first, but it gets old after a while!”</p>
<p>“You made your point,” Jango muttered. He really wasn’t proud of how he’d handled the split, and there had been a lot of yelling between the two of them. He knew it hadn’t been easy on Boba ,and the accusations in his son’s words made his chest hurt to even think about.</p>
<p>Ohnaka whistled slowly. “So what’s the plan, Mr. Fett? Does he know you’re coming?”</p>
<p>“Okay, well…”</p>
<p>“Have you talked to him at all since you split up?”</p>
<p>“...I mean, a bit.”</p>
<p>“But no big talks?”</p>
<p>“The thing I’m going to is supposed to be the big talk.” Jango was getting a little pissed off at having to defend himself to someone he just met.</p>
<p>“And you brought your kid?”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes, I know. It was a bad choice.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, desperately wishing he could go back in time a few days and yell at Arla to get off her fucking vacation faster so she could babysit Boba for him.</p>
<p>Ohnaka just cackled. “Listen, listen, you’re a bold man. Hondo likes the bold ones. Tell you what.” They rolled into the traffic circle around the enormous office building that read JEDI in giant, glowing letters, then pulled to a stop. Hondo  handed Jango a business card: wrinkled and a phone number scrawled in barely legible ink. “You’re my last fare of the night, so I’ll end your ride here.” He made a great show of ending the ride on his half-shattered smartphone screen before grinning at Jango again. “If your Great Plan wins you back the love of your life, call me! Otherwise, I’ll wait in the garage and drive you and your wonderful son anywhere you need to go tonight. How about that?”</p>
<p>Jango blinked. “Um. That’d actually be great. Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Of course, of course, it’s Christmas!” Ohnaka laughed. “You just remember that when you write the tip, eh?”</p>
<p>“I still think this is a horrible idea,” Boba mumbled.</p>
<p>The second Obi-Wan opened the door to his office, Jango knew that Boba had been right. He almost turned tail and ran right then and there.</p>
<p>Obi took a second to smile at Boba and then gave Jango his patented look: eyebrows raised, smiling politely, eyes conveying just a subtle sense of, <em>you fucked up</em>.</p>
<p>God, he’d missed him.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know Boba was coming,” Obi-Wan said, voice measured and even, which of course meant that Jango was in deep shit.</p>
<p>“Yeah, it was a last-minute decision. I couldn’t find a babysitter,” Jango rubbed the back of his head and looked down.</p>
<p>Obi’s smile turned just a bit strained. “Well, you could have called.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I meant to, but–”</p>
<p>Boba groaned loudly. “Can you two at least wait until I’m out of the room before you start <em>please</em>?”</p>
<p>Obi turned to their son, his strained smile turning genuine. “Yes. I’m sorry about that. It’s good to see you, I just wasn’t expecting it.” He held his arms out for a hug, which Boba gladly gave him. “Wow, you’ve gotten really tall since I last saw you!”</p>
<p>Boba scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’m still the shortest kid in my class.”</p>
<p>Jango leaned against the doorframe and smiled slightly at the two of them. He remembered when they’d first started dating, how he’d introduced Boba to Obi for the first time and had been a bit worried about how his then-boyfriend would react. He’d had nothing to worry about, of course: Obi was great with kids and had won his son over right away. He knew that, no matter what kind of shit went down between the two of them, Obi would always care about the kid. About Jango, on the other hand…</p>
<p>He realized he’d spaced out and that Obi-Wan had said something to him. “Sorry, what?”</p>
<p>“I asked if you wanted anything to drink. You look like you’ve had a rough flight.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Uh, water would be nice.”</p>
<p>Obi went off to get him some water and Boba immediately leaned over to fake-whisper, “Nice going, dad. You’re really smooth. Like sandpaper.”</p>
<p>Jango poked him in the ribs lightly, making him laugh. “Thanks for the advice. How about you go wait in the hall for a second? We’ll be right out.”</p>
<p>Boba’s face fell. “You guys are gonna fight?”</p>
<p>“Not fight. Maybe argue a little bit.”</p>
<p>His son sighed dramatically and went out to the hall, shutting the door just a bit too loudly behind him. Jango winced.</p>
<p>Obi gave him a glass of water and then leaned against a wall, arms crossed, waiting for him to finish. Jango drained it in record time and cleared his throat. Fuck him, this was going to be a shitshow.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s smile was completely gone now. He looked worn-out more than anything, his clearly expensive suit doing nothing to distract Jango from the bags under his eyes. “When’s the last time you slept?” he blurted out.</p>
<p>Obi opened his mouth, clearly a bit startled by the question. “Um. Last night?”</p>
<p>“Liar.”</p>
<p>Obi looked like he was about to defend himself, but then shook his head and glanced down at the floor. “If you’re trying to distract me from the fact that you brought your son here, it isn’t working. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this is some harebrained tactic to manipulate me into getting back together with you.”</p>
<p>“Our son,” Jango said quietly.</p>
<p>Obi stared at him for a few seconds. “What?”</p>
<p>“You said ‘your’. Boba’s <em>our</em> son.”</p>
<p>“Right. You’re right, that isn’t what I meant–”</p>
<p>“And of course I didn’t bring him here to make you feel guilty or anything like that!” Jango scoffed. “Jesus Christ, Obi, what do you think of me? I literally couldn’t find a damn babysitter, what was I supposed to do?”</p>
<p>“Call me.” Obi-Wan’s voice remained infuriatingly quiet. “You were supposed to call me so that I wouldn’t be blindsided by seeing him. Where do you plan for him to stay? Do you think I’m set up for Christmas with a child? You know how much time it would take for me to actually plan something like this out so he doesn’t feel like he’s just a last-minute burden on me?” He paused and took a breath that meant he was trying not to let himself get too upset. Jango had  seen him use it with clients before; the fact that he had to force himself to stay in control because of Jango… Well, he wasn’t going to think about how much that hurt.</p>
<p>Before he could think better of it, Jango heard himself say, “Why wouldn’t your house still be child-proof? Are you seeing somebody?”</p>
<p>That was a mistake. Obi gave him a completely blank look for a few long seconds. “Yes. I’m seeing somebody. I have dates every weekend.”</p>
<p>Jango felt like that time some dumbass had stabbed him in the stomach: numbness flooded through his body and instead of any pain he just felt overwhelmingly cold. “Oh.”</p>
<p>“No, I’m not seeing anybody!” Obi exclaimed and then lowered his voice, practically hissing at Jango, “I’m a public defense attorney, <em>how much free time do you think I have?</em>”</p>
<p>Jango did his best not to laugh. Obi might have actually exploded if he did. (He also tried, unsuccessfully, not to feel any relief at the news of Obi still being single.) “Well, if you don’t have any space, I was gonna see if Captain Skirata did.” Ignoring the horrified expression on his ex’s face, he continued, “I heard he retired out here.”</p>
<p>Obi’s eyebrows were climbing further and further up and Jango couldn’t hide a smile at how he was trying and failing to stay calm and professional. “Oh, did he?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, last year.”</p>
<p>“Oh good, well, you’re not staying with fu-” He glanced towards the door where Boba was probably listening. “...with your freaking police captain. I have space.” He ran a hand through his hair, somehow managing not to mess up a single strand, and sighed. Suddenly, the somewhat playful annoyance was gone and he just seemed...done. “I just...really wish you would have told me.”</p>
<p>Jango opened his mouth to apologize, but realized he couldn’t even say the words. He settled on, “I should’ve.”</p>
<p>Obi-Wan laughed quietly, sounding absolutely exhausted. “This was supposed to be a time for us to talk, Jango. To have an actual conversation without screaming at each other. How are we supposed to discuss our relationship while your– while <em>our</em> son is here? That’s not fair to him, he’s had to deal with us arguing far too much already.” He waved a hand at the door beyond which Boba was definitely eavesdropping.</p>
<p>“...I should have called you,” Jango repeated. He wasn’t sure what else he could say.</p>
<p>“Yes, I know you should’ve.” Obi sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. He looked like he was about to break down, and Jango desperately wanted to just hug him. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’m going to go down to the party, I’ll take Boba with me and give you a chance to...freshen up. Maybe take a shower.” Obi nodded to himself, clearly done with the conversation and started to head for the door.</p>
<p>“What kind of person has a shower in their office?” Jango couldn’t help but ask.</p>
<p>Obi didn’t bother turning as he replied. “A person with a job that pays well.” Then he opened the door and he was gone. Fucking annoying lawyer bastard always had to have the last word.</p>
<p>Jango resisted the urge to kick a wall and opened a side door that, predictably, led to the bathroom. <em>A bathroom in an office, what kind of white person shit-</em> He started taking off his shoes because he wasn’t a damn heathen, still internally seething. That was just uncalled for. How much money the two of them made was a painfully sore subject that had come up quite a lot in the months leading up to their separation, and it still hurt like a fresh wound to even think about it.</p>
<p>Obi knew that, he was way too smart not to, so why would he even–</p>
<p>He was spiraling. He splashed some water in his face, gave himself an unimpressed look in the mirror, and took out his phone, dialing the number the weird limo driver had given him earlier.</p>
<p>“Hey. You're gonna have to stick around a bit longer, I might need a ride to a hotel after all.”</p>
<p>Ohnaka’s voice responded, making Jango wince slightly, “Oh ho, Mr. Fett! Your great plan has gone awry already? It’s not been long at all!”</p>
<p>Jango sighed. “Yeah. Well. The fact that shit’s already hit the fan after barely five minutes should tell you a lot about my situation.”</p>
<p>A vaguely sympathetic noise came from the other side of the phone. “Ah, don’t say that, my friend: it’s Christmas! The time of miracles! As my mother always said, it’s not over until the stabbing starts! Give it another hour, Mr. Fett. I’m sure he’ll come around!”</p>
<p>“...Yeah, alright.” At least Boba seemed to be having fun. He looked through the blinds of the office window into the hallway: Boba and Obi-Wan were laughing with each other as if it hadn’t been months since they’d seen each other last. He couldn’t really cut the night short for either of them.  “I’ll call back in an hour.”</p>
<p>“Good luck, Mr. Fett! May your gods bless your endeavors!” A jarring noise that was absolutely the sound of MTV being blasted in the background roared and the call disconnected.</p>
<p>At least he had an escape plan from this shitshow. Still...he really hadn’t thought it would go this badly this fast. They hadn’t been on the best of terms leading up to their separation, but the very fact that Obi had invited him out to California for Christmas had seemed like a sign that things could go back to the way they were. But apparently they still couldn’t have a conversation without being at each other's throats. He hated that he was even surprised.</p>
<p>Jango paused, halfway through unbuttoning his shirt. If he hadn’t been focused on his internal ranting, he would’ve heard the noises sooner and now that he had, they were unmistakable.</p>
<p>Screaming and the sound of gunshots echoed down the hall.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, so I know I said I’d update this weekly, but I’ve been having a rough few weeks mental health-wise so I decided to postpone and even so, this chapter is pretty short. So, sorry about that but I hope you enjoy a POV from my personal favorite trans boy Feral.<br/>The terrorists are here! Yay!<br/>See you at the bottom<br/>TW: mentions of violence against children and in general, lots of guns, explosives, unhealthy family dynamics. Just like, be careful if you get triggered by violence, this is an action movie</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Feral opened his mouth to ask again why exactly he had to be present, but then thought about the very real possibility of Savage following through on his threats and kicking him out of the moving truck and closed his mouth.</p><p>He was supposed to be in college.</p><p>He knew it was petty as hell to be focusing on that thought right now, but it had been bugging him the whole time he’d listened to Maul go over their plans, the whole time he and Savage had loaded up the containers of C4 and machine guns, most of the ride to the plaza. He was supposed to be in college and instead he was about to rob the freaking JEDI Corporation.</p><p>He didn’t want to, of course. But what he wanted had never mattered and it didn’t now.</p><p>The cars pulled up in the underground parking lot and everyone started to get out, all the criminals for hire Maul had gathered. Next to Feral, Savage climbed out of the front seat and stretched his arms up over his head (the cracking that resulted could not have been healthy). He punched Feral in the shoulder lightly. Well, as lightly as Savage ever hit anybody. “What’s with the sulking?” he asked, in Russian.</p><p>Feral forced a bit of a smile. “Nothing. I’m looking forward to my first act of international terrorism.”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be like that. It’s not <em>really</em> terrorism.”</p><p>“‘Your Honor, please, I didn’t <em>really</em> blow up a skyscraper,’” Feral imitated him as both of them moved to the back of the car and unloaded the assortment of guns.</p><p>Savage laughed. “Okay, okay, look at it this way. The people in there are all assholes. We’re just taking some money from rich assholes and leaving. Nobody’s gonna get hurt.”</p><p>Feral highly doubted that, but he didn’t say so. He knew they needed money, of course he did. Both of his older brothers were still paying off bills for their prosthetics and the two of them were on T, so it wasn’t as if they were rolling in cash. He’d probably be okay with this whole thing if it was just about the money.</p><p>But with Maul, things were never that simple. He had hidden motives behind everything and God help anyone who tried to question him.</p><p>He took a breath and then went over to where Maul was standing. “Just making sure, there’s no kids here, right?”</p><p>Maul gave him a blank look. “It’s an office party. Why would there be children?”</p><p>“I just wanted to make sure—“</p><p>“No. All adults. Your morals aren’t going to be ruined. Not that you feeling nice about yourself has ever been a factor for the jobs we pick. Stop bellyaching and let’s get on with it.”</p><p>Maul headed over to the front door: the rest of the group had already made their way into the building. Cad Bane, a threatening-looking man with a wide-brimmed hat on over his bald head, had shot the only security guard on duty (Jesus, were these people asking to get robbed?) and was now closing off all exits. Feral slung one of the machine guns onto his back and jogged to get inside before the front doors shut and locked.</p><p>Maul had gone over the plan with all of them countless times before, so everyone knew exactly what to do. All of them except Bane headed to the one elevator that hadn’t been locked off and went up to the floor they knew the party was being held on.</p><p>That was one long, awkward elevator ride. Feral could practically feel the excitement and bloodlust radiating off of everyone else present and...it didn’t exactly make him feel sick, but it was not a pleasant feeling. The gun he was carrying felt heavy against his back.</p><p>It was going to be a long night.</p><p>The elevator doors opened and all hell broke loose.</p><p>Gunfire echoed through the huge room and the partygoers started to scream. Aurra Sing and Rako Hardeen, two of the criminals Maul had hired for “crowd control”, seemed to be having way too much fun firing their weapons in the air and yelling threats. Hardeen had worn his obnoxiously red bomber jacket (Feral remembered him saying, “It’s not like we need to worry about the dress code, it’s our party!”) and the color matched Sing’s ponytail, swinging behind her as she shot up in the air, not a hair out of place. Feral shivered slightly at the ease with which she handled her machine gun. It seemed almost like a force of habit.</p><p>After a few moments of the criminals reveling in sheer chaos, Savage helped them actually herd the people into the center of the room. Some of them were still screaming or crying by that point, but having guns pointed at you was usually a good incentive to be quiet.</p><p>While their crew was spreading out around the room, Feral hung back and watched the crowd. Most people were in formal attire, some still holding drinks. The majority of them had gathered in the center by now, all except a small group that was still off to the side. Feral took a step forward and noticed, behind one of the men, a little kid just standing there.</p><p>Feral’s whole body tensed up in alarm. The kid was ten at most and he looked absolutely terrified. His too-big shirt and jeans made him stick out like a sore thumb in the middle of all the adults; he was lucky that, in the chaos and shouts, no one had noticed him yet. (Besides Feral, of course.)</p><p>But they would. And then...ah, fuck.</p><p>Feral thought about going over and telling Maul about this, but the boy would just be used as another source of leverage. Maul had never had any qualms about using children to get what he wanted.</p><p>Sometimes, Feral really wanted to punch his brother in the face. He grit his teeth and stayed silent.</p><p>Maul gestured to Savage and the shooting stopped. The room fell silent, all of the guests now staring in horror— or, in some cases, contempt—, at Maul as he started his grand speech about not hurting anyone and how they were all going to be held hostage and <em>would you please put your phones over there in the corner, thanks</em>.</p><p>Feral looked over to where the kid had been, just in time to see the man turn back slightly and mutter something. The boy nodded, turned, and disappeared seemingly into the wall. There must have been a side door there or a vent opening or-</p><p>“Brother.”</p><p>Feral’s gaze snapped back over to Maul, who was now speaking quietly to him in Russian. “Make yourself useful and go do your fucking job, yeah?”</p><p>It took him all of his self-restraint, but Feral just nodded and turned around to go up the stairs to the roof.</p><p>It wasn’t until he had actually started wiring up the packs of C4 that Feral realized he hadn’t actually told his older brother about the little boy or about his escape.</p><p>Oh, well. What could one kid possibly do, anyway?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>OK, I would just like to say that all the comments and kudos for this week have been amazing. I seriously wasn’t expecting people to even read these, but the support has been doing wonders for my self-esteem. Be careful, I might get a big head.<br/>Next chapter will be longer and hopefully out next weekend. We’ll get to see more Jango, and possibly injuring/killing people so yayers</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Maul settles an old score. Feral is trying his best. Someone pulled the fire alarm.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: character death (it's a bad guy, dw), violence, guns<br/>wow, look at me, actually keeping my promises and posting on time! I'm way too proud of myself considering it's almost Monday (alexa play Writer in the Dark). but anyway, enjoy the chapter, this one's a bit longer and I'm pretty proud of it<br/>see you on the bottom</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maul lounged in the office chair, draping one leg over the side of it. His pant leg rode up, exposing the edge of his prosthetic and he frowned. No matter how much time he had, he would never quite get used to his new legs.</p><p>Oh, well. Now he could finally have his revenge.</p><p>As Palpatine walked in, flanked by Savage, he smiled and sat up . The man looked almost the same as he had when Maul last saw him—the joys of being able to afford plastic surgery, he supposed. Infuriatingly, he didn’t look intimidated at all, just mildly inconvenienced at best. Maul felt his smile start to turn into a sneer. He waved for Palpatine to come over and sit down across from him.</p><p>Palpatine did so. The bastard was actually smiling a bit. Maul felt his fingers itching for his gun. <em>Not yet</em>.</p><p>“So,” Palpatine began after a few seconds of silence. “This grand show is all about me, is it?”</p><p>Maul scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. You merely happen to be a part of it.”</p><p>“Part of what? Your pathetic attempt to rob a charity? I’m flattered.”</p><p>Maul almost lunged across the table, but stopped himself and looked over at his brother. Savage had closed the office door and was standing in front of it, ready to provide backup if he needed. He gave Maul a look that said <em>you know you losing your temper never gets us anywhere</em>.</p><p>Maul rolled his eyes. As if, out of the two of them, he was the one who had anger issues.</p><p>He took a breath and started talking again,, “I know that you are storing something in the JEDI Corporation’s vault,” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice cool and even. He took a moment to enjoy the way Palpatine’s face changed, almost imperceptible unless you knew to look for it. “You’ve gotten into smuggling again? Disappointing, really. I’ve always expected you to be one for more dramatic crimes. But no matter. You’re using this building to hold some very lucrative goods while you arrange a way to transport them out of the country. I’m here to relieve you of that responsibility.”  A thrill passed through him at the very idea of finally, <em>finally</em> being in this position.</p><p>Palpatine laughed. “Is that it? You must think you’re very clever, to have figured that out all by yourself.” Maul leaned back, the embarrassment and frustration stinging just like Palpatine knew it would. “What makes you think that I would ever give up my assets to a sad little amputee looking to settle an old score?” Maul’s fingers were digging into the fabric of the chair’s arms hard enough to leave marks. “Do you think that I’m intimidated by you?”</p><p>“Oh, I think you should be.” Maul finally picked up his pistol from where it lay on the table and aimed it directly at Palpatine’s face. The bastard didn’t even have the decency to look surprised or scared. He felt his voice rising to almost a shout. “What’s the code to the vault?!”</p><p>Palpatine sighed.“I’m afraid that I don’t know. I wasn’t the one who put my assets in.”</p><p>The grip on his pistol was unwavering. “I don’t believe you.”</p><p>“I don’t care. It’s true. I can’t give you the code.”</p><p>Maul chuckled lowly. “I’ve waited so long for this moment. Every second of having to live in a wheelchair, of phantom pains, of being treated like subhuman, all of it was made bearable by the fact that someday you would be staring down the barrel of a gun and I would be the one holding it. I have fantasized about killing you so many times, in so many ways. I think I built you up in my head into something scary. But now, look at you.” He shrugged. “You’re nothing but a washed-up old criminal who still thinks he’s someone to be reckoned with. It almost makes me sad. So I’m going to give you one last chance, out of sheer pity.” He lowered his voice into almost a whisper. “Give me the code.”</p><p>Palpatine leaned forward so that his forehead was almost pressed against the pistol. He continued to make direct eye contact with Maul. “I don’t have it. You’re just going to have to kill me.” The smug tone of his voice told Maul everything he needed to know.</p><p>“Okay.” Palpatine’s eyes lit up with a momentary flicker of surprise in the split second before Maul pulled the trigger and the wall opposite him was splattered with blood.</p><p>Savage tipped his head to the side and stared at Palpatine’s lifeless body. “How did that feel?”</p><p>Maul sighed. “Not as satisfying as I thought it would be.” After all that, he wished he could have drawn it out longer.</p><p>“Ah.” Savage shifted a bit. “I’m sorry, brother.”</p><p>Maul fought the urge to roll his eyes again at the heavy-handed attempts at empathy. “Just go tell Martez to start hacking, would you?” He leaned back in his chair again. “And get somebody to clean the body up.”</p><p>Just as Savage turned to leave, the shrill blaring of a fire alarm pierced the air. The two brothers’ heads snapped up. Savage turned to him, “What was that?”</p><p>Maul felt the beginnings of a migraine setting in. “Just another factor to make this more complicated. Someone pulled the damn alarm.”</p><p>Feral was standing at the edge of the room with the hostages and holding his gun, desperately hoping that he looked like he knew what he was doing, when Savage opened the door to the office Maul had made his center of operations and motioned for him to come in.</p><p>The second he did, he knew Maul was pissed. His older brother was pacing around the room. The slightly off-balance step pattern that his prosthetics gave him was a tell-tale sound learned  over the years of living together: Feral  should duck his head and stay out of the way. This time, that didn’t seem to be an option. Maul’s eyes found him as soon as he walked in the room.</p><p>“I assume you heard the alarm.” Maul was looking over Feral like he would any of his other resources.</p><p>“Yeah, everybody did,” Feral replied carefully. “Do we know who pulled it?”</p><p>“Not yet. Martez was able to isolate the floor.you’re going  up to see who’s trying to cause trouble for us.”</p><p>Feral blinked. “Um, what?”</p><p>“It’s the thirty-second. Good luck.” Maul started to turn away.</p><p>“No, wait,” Feral felt himself stammer. “You’re telling me to go there by myself?”</p><p>Maul whirled back around and marched up to glare him in the face. “Would you rather I send somebody with you to hold your hand? You’re not a child anymore.”</p><p>Feral ignored how much that hurt and tried again, “I know I’m not but–”</p><p>Savage stepped in, “I could go with him. It’s probably a security guard or something. It’d be safer for two of us.”</p><p>Feral took a moment to mentally thank his brother.But Maul shook his head, his glare now turned on Savage. “When I asked whether we could bring him on this job, you told me that we could.” His voice was icy. “You told me that he was capable of anything we come across. Well, is he?”</p><p>Savage stared back at him.Feral could feel the conflict going through his head before finally he replied, “He is.”</p><p>“Then why are we still talking about this?” Maul waved one hand for Feral to leave and turned away again.</p><p>Feral felt his blood starting to boil, but Savage offered him an apologetic smile and he couldn’t do anything except smile back. “I’ll be fine,” he forced out. “Don’t worry.”</p><p>Savage rolled his eyes and reached over to ruffle Feral’s hair, messing up his bun. “I always worry, that’s my job. But you can handle it. You’ve got the bigger gun, don’t be afraid to use it. Got your radio?” Feral nodded. “Let me know if you need help.”</p><p>“This is all very touching,” Maul called from across the room. “But can you two move on so we can do what we came here to?”</p><p>Feral pointedly did not snap and say anything back as he headed for the elevators. He did let himself punch the up button a bit harder than was necessary, but passive-aggressive release of aggression was sort of in his blood.</p><p>The elevator doors slid open with a ding and he got in, pressing the button marked ‘32’. He had just been up here to do the C4; why hadn’t Maul told him to go then? Of course, the straggler pulling the alarm wasn’t actually caused by Maul, but he could still blame all his problems on his older brother and nobody could stop him.</p><p>Feral slung his gun onto his back and used the time it took for the elevator to rise the necessary number of floors to hastily redo his bun. He remembered Rafa Martez’s sneer when she’d seen his hair before they set out for the plaza (“Honey, this is a robbery, not a ballet recital”) and winced slightly. His long hair was a bit of a sore point for his dysphoria, but he hadn’t gotten around to cutting it yet and–</p><p>Focus. He needed to focus on the job at hand. He moved the gun back into his hands and adjusted his hoodie. It had been Savage’s and Feral was sort of drowning in it. Not that that would stop him from wearing his favorite brother’s clothes– God, he needed to <em>focus</em>.</p><p>The doors slid open and Feral stepped out, looking up and down the empty corridor. He sighed. His job couldn’t be easy, could it.</p><p>He picked a side at random and started to walk down the hall. He made his accent a bit thicker than it actually was as he called out, “Whoever’s here, come out. This area’s off-limits after hours. If you’re still here once the workday’s over, you will be hunted for sport.”</p><p>He continued to walk a bit further, letting his thoughts wander again and then-</p><p>something hit him on the back of the head, and Feral cussed loudly in Russian.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks again to my main gal Rey for beta-ing this and yelling at me freely, couldn't have done this without you<br/>another huge thank you to @fadinglight123 on tumblr for listening to me ramble on and on about this stupid au ("DOES FERAL HAVE LONG HAIR OR SHORT HAIR, THIS IS PLOT-RELEVANT I SWEAR"). You're a saint &lt;3<br/>I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I certainly enjoyed killing Palps (despite my lack of skill at writing action. i kinda fucked myself with this au didn't i). all your comments and kudos mean so so much to my dead little writer heart, pls keep giving me validation so my ego can grow and consume the western coastline &lt;3<br/>maybe next weekend we'll finally get some jango pov again?? god this movie is long and convoluted. crack isn't supposed to have so many layers, i feel like brian david gilbert just trying to explain the plot for this</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Feral gets his ass handed to him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW for violence<br/>I hope you guys like this one, I'm trying my best writing action even though it really is not my forte.<br/>See you at the bottom</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jango was having a very shitty day.</p><p>He’d sort of been expecting to, but there’s a very big difference between <em>having a fight with your soon-to-be ex</em> shitty and <em>getting attacked by terrorists</em> shitty.</p><p>As soon as he’d heard the gunshots, Jango had gotten his pistol and climbed up into the vents, making his way towards the auditorium room where he’d assumed the hostages were being held. He’d managed to find the room that the main criminal, Maul, was using as a center of command, and he’d been there to witness the quick execution of Sheev Palpatine. (Jango had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it had startled him enough to make a noise that he was really lucky Maul hadn’t heard.)</p><p>After that, Jango had gone up a random number of floors and pulled a fire alarm, figuring that was the best way for him to contact any kind of outside authority. The alarm had rung out for a few seconds before being abruptly cut short. Jango had sworn loudly and creatively.</p><p>He hadn’t gotten to take a shower. His feet were bare. He had one pistol with him. As far as he knew, both his husband and his ten-year-old son were being held hostage at gunpoint by a group of terrorists.</p><p>This was such a shitty day.</p><p>He almost couldn’t believe his luck when one of said criminals exited the elevator on his floor, decked out with a machine gun and <em>alone</em>.</p><p>Jango walked from his hiding place and hit the guy over the head as hard as he could. With some loud swearing in what sounded like Russian, his opponent fell to his knees. Jango took the opportunity to relieve him of the gun.</p><p>The guy scrambled to his feet, turned to face Jango and– Jesus Christ, how old was this kid? He looked like a high-schooler, with a white hoodie way too big for his thin frame and blond hair tied back in a bun that was now falling apart. His eyes widened just a bit just before  Jango was pushing him back. The kid’s head snapped back and hit the wall with a sickening crunch, and he hissed out something else in Russian. Then Jango brought his forearm up to press into his windpipe. The kid made a strangled noise and clawed at Jango’s arm.</p><p>“What the fuck are you people doing here?” Jango growled.</p><p>“Getting pinned to a wall by a damn security guard,” the kid wheezed out.</p><p>“I’m NYPD, motherfucker–”</p><p>“You’re on the wrong coast, motherfucker!” The kid was squirming hard now, trying his best get out of the spot he was pinned in. Despite the cockiness in his voice, it was clear the kid was panicking.</p><p>Jango sighed. “How old are you, kid?”</p><p>“Nineteen.”</p><p>“Jesus fucking Christ, a goddamn teenager is holding up a building full of rich people?”</p><p>The kid had the audacity to grin.</p><p>Jango let up on the pressure a bit. “Look, I don’t wanna kill a kid.”</p><p>The scrawny little shit laughed. “Aw, that’s cute, that’s such a dad thing to–” He paused and stared at Jango for a second, blinking hard. “Wait, that was your kid.”</p><p>Just like that, Jango’s entire body tensed, horror running through him at the idea of anything, <em>anything</em> happening to Boba, to his son.Before he really knew what he was doing, he pulled the pistol out of his waistband and was aiming it directly at the kid’s face.“What the fuck does that mean?”</p><p>The kid’s eyes widened.He squirmed even harder. “Uh, I saw a kid with the rest of the hostages in the main room. He looked just like you, and then when I looked back he’d disappeared!”</p><p>“Where did he go?” The kid paused, so Jango moved the gun a bit closer. “What happened to him, where did the kid go?!”</p><p>“He went into a vent! He went into a vent!” The kid yelled. “Jesus Christ, get that thing out of my face!”</p><p>“Who else saw?!”</p><p>“Uh, I dunno, the guy who helped him in?”</p><p>“What guy?!”</p><p>“A guy! It’s not like he had a name tag! Sorta ginger hair, beard, average height, blue suit, he was standing with the kid.”</p><p>Jango inhaled sharply. <em>Obi. Of course.</em> He felt some of the fear draining out of him. At least his son was out of there, but goddamnit, Boba in the vents? That was gonna be a pain in the ass.</p><p>Jango swore under his breath and took a step back. The kid stared at him for a second, eyes wide with fear and then Jango swung the heavy metal of the gun up in an arc. The kid’s eyes widened in the split second before it hit his head with a sound too close to a crunch. He crumpled to the floor, a fresh wound on his head steadily dripping blood onto the fabric of his hoodie.</p><p>It took much less time than it should have, but Jango came to a decision. He knelt down, checked that the kid was still breathing, and picked him up easily. It was a matter of a few minutes to carry his unconscious body into one of the empty supply closets. There, he found a roll of duct tape and used some of it to tie the kid’s hands behind his back, but not before taking the oversized hoodie off of him. He stuck a piece of the tape over the kid’s mouth, not that it looked like he was going to wake up any time soon.</p><p>He looked at the Converse the kid was wearing and then back at his own feet. “I just had to get the goddamn teen with the tiny-ass feet,” he muttered to himself. Jango sighed and resigned himself to traipsing around a skyscraper under construction with bare feet. He’d probably get tetanus by the time this shit was over.</p><p>Then he got an idea. Jango used the hoodie to mop up most of the blood from the kid’s face and grabbed a sharpie from one of the bins in the closet. He closed the door behind him when he left and headed for the elevator.</p><p>He dropped the now bloody hoodie off in there and scribbled a message on the wall. He took a step back and admired his handiwork. “Now I have a machine gun. Ho, ho, ho.” He laughed to himself. It wasn’t the cleverest thing he could have written, but, to his over-tired mind, it seemed hilarious. Jango pushed the button for the elevator to go to the auditorium floor, got out, and promptly fucked off up the stairs. He now had another gun, a walkie-talkie, and some detonators. Not too bad.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sooooo hi. It's been two weeks.<br/>In my defense, I had exams (because I am a child) and then I had some mental health or lack thereof bullshit and then I just got lazy so yeah this chapter's a bit short and also late, so sorry about that but I hope you enjoy anyway.<br/>Btw I've been listening exclusively to Pumped Up Kicks while writing Feral, so that may explain some of his choices.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW discussions of death, injuries/blood, gunfire, all the action movie things</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Unfortunately, Mr. Palpatine won’t be joining you again for the rest of his life.”</p>
<p>As soon as the man finished his sentence, the room around Obi-Wan erupted into screams. Obi-Wan couldn’t blame the other partygoers —well, the other <em>hostages</em> now, he supposed— but he simply pressed his lips together firmly and tried to stay calm.</p>
<p>He always had an easy time staying calm in difficult situations, but he was really hating how little control he had over this one. Usually he’d be the one trying to de-escalate things, help the others, maybe try and escape, but this time, he knew Boba was somewhere still in the building.For now, Obi-Wan couldn’t “throw himself at the nearest available danger,” as Padme often put it, and had to cooperate.</p>
<p>So Obi-Wan was sitting on the floor, letting someone point a gun at him, and now a man was dead.</p>
<p>He hadn’t known Sheev Palpatine very well or at all really. He’d seemed like an average enough man, getting on in years but not overtly intolerant which is the best you can really expect from people who donate large amounts of money to a non-profit law firm. Obi-Wan didn’t feel anything but remorse and, if he was being honest with himself, a bit of relief that the victim hadn’t been someone he’d known.</p>
<p>The people around him quieted down after the terrorists shot at the ceiling a few more times. Obi-Wan sympathized with the terrified guests, but he found himself mostly unaffected by the fear tactics. He remembered his first time in a war zone when he’d worked with the Peace Corps. <em>That</em> had been scary; this was hardly impressive in comparison.</p>
<p>The man who was clearly the leader of this group started talking again. It seemed to be all grandiose threats and monologuing. Obi-Wan tuned him out.</p>
<p>Padme was sitting next to him. Her dress had to be causing her some discomfort, but she didn’t let it show as she leaned over to him and whispered, barely audible, “You got Boba out?”</p>
<p>He nodded.</p>
<p>“Good. Do you know where your husband is?”</p>
<p>Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Probably off putting his hero complex to good use,” he whispered back. “What do you think of these people?”</p>
<p>Padme looked over at the gunman stationed closest to them. The man was wearing a garishly red jacket and looked much too excited to be holding what looked like an AR-15. She turned back to Obi-Wan. “They seem to have a decent amount of experience...career criminals, probably.”</p>
<p>He hummed in agreement. “What are they here for then?”</p>
<p>“I guess we’ll find out.” She nudged him gently with her elbow. “Stay put, play along, don’t do anything that’d show off <em>your</em> hero complex.”</p>
<p>He smiled just a bit. “I won’t if you won’t.”</p>
<p>“Deal.”</p>
<p>He tuned back into the man in front’s speech just in time to hear him say, “Make no mistake. We’re in control.”</p>
<p>The elevator bell dinged. All heads turned to look in its direction.</p>
<p>The doors slid open and the woman closest to them screamed. A gunman from the front, who towered over the rest of the crowd by at least ten centimeters, ran over to push the woman back and see what was inside.</p>
<p>When he looked in, his face rapidly turned from confusion to pure rage. He muttered something and then his right fist (his left was definitely a prosthetic, Obi-Wan noted) met the wall near the elevator with a muffled crunch.</p>
<p>A few startled gasps sounded among the crowd, but they got drowned out by the tall gunman letting out a scream, full of pain that surprisingly enough didn’t seem to be caused by putting his fist through the damn wall.</p>
<p>The leader made his way over, shouting for the rest of the crowd to get away from the elevator. Once he saw what was inside, his face went completely blank. He ignored the gunman shouting something at him in what sounded like Russian (Obi-Wan suddenly regretted never learning it) and motioned for him to get down the hall and over to Obi-Wan’s office.</p>
<p>It took the leader a few minutes but he finally got the other man into the office and closed the door behind them. That didn’t nearly drown out all the angry yelling.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan nudged Padme, who was closer to the elevator doors. She took the other criminals’ distraction as an opportunity to sit up on her knees and look over. She quickly sat back down.</p>
<p>“What does it say?”</p>
<p>She frowned. “‘Now I have a machine gun. Ho, ho, ho.’”</p>
<p>The yelling had almost petered out and now it sounded like the gunman’s voice was breaking.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan sighed. “Jango’s definitely still out there. Only he could piss someone off that much.”</p>
<p>They’d been in the damn office for a few minutes now. Savage could feel his throat getting hoarse and he didn’t care.</p>
<p>“YOU LET HIM GET KILLED!”</p>
<p>Maul sighed.“It wasn’t my fault, brother.”</p>
<p>“Bullshit! I told you not to let him go alone, I told you I could go with him and-“</p>
<p>“And if you had, what makes you think you wouldn’t be dead  too?” That stopped Savage for a second. “This guy clearly knows his way around a weapon, maybe brute force wouldn’t have been enough to stop him.”</p>
<p>Savage felt himself about to cry, so he just yelled, hoping to let out some of the overwhelming noise inside his head. His brother was dead, <em>his baby brother was dead and it was his fault and he should’ve gone with him but he may not have even been enough and Feral was dead Feral was dead Feral–</em></p>
<p>Maul’s voice broke through his thoughts.“Savage, stop.”</p>
<p>Savage tried to take a breath, but it was like his lungs had stopped working.</p>
<p>Maul just stared at him gasping for air. “Stop. Snap out of it.”</p>
<p>Savage muttered, “He’s dead.” Everything he’d been counting on had just fallen apart before his eyes. The bastard had just left his hoodie, <em>Savage’s</em> hoodie that Feral always used to “borrow” and then complain about it being too big. </p>
<p>Feral wouldn’t complain about anything to him again. The thought made Savage want to scream again and he would have if Maul hadn’t said, “You can get revenge for this.”</p>
<p>Savage’s head snapped up. Maul’s expression was unreadable as always. <em>Did he really not care at all?</em></p>
<p>“We’ll get revenge,” Maul repeated slowly. “You’ll kill the man who did this yourself. But you can’t do that if you break down now and stop focusing on the mission. Alright?”</p>
<p>Savage felt more anger rising up. He desperately wanted to yell about how none of this would have happened if Maul hadn’t taken Feral on the mission in the first place, that he’d warned Maul about Feral being too young, but he knew his brother was right. The only thing he could do now that— the only thing he could do was to finish the job and then kill the motherfucker that did this. Maybe it wasn’t what Feral would have wanted, but it damn sure would make Savage feel better to kick the guy’s head in.</p>
<p>Savage nodded, forcing back the tears and the anger.</p>
<p>Maul smiled faintly. “Good. Then let’s get back to work.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi I'm late again. This one took me an unreasonably long time, but I had a fic exchange that got done last week, you can check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Clan_Tille_Stans_Valentines_Exchange/works <br/>Everyone involved in it is super talented and awesome and we all need some more aroace stuff in our lives. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, see you next week (hopefully)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO MY LOVELY HORRIBLE FRIEND @reyiosa on tumblr for being #1 enabler for this shit and writing all of Hondo's lines because I hate writing Hondo Ohnaka (if i have to type out "oh ho" with my own two hands ONE MORE TIME i may attack nakatomi plaza)<br/>I'm gonna try to make this a weekly update<br/>Please comment and leave kudos if you enjoy this strange little fic of mine<br/>-arson</p></blockquote></div></div>
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